


No ties (Translation)

by Bujeong



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bad English, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Claudia Stilinski Lives, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, English, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanfiction, Father-Son Relationship, Father/Son Incest, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pseudo-Incest, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Size Difference, Smut, Stiles Stilinski is Seventeen Years Old, Top Sheriff Stilinski, Underage Drinking, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bujeong/pseuds/Bujeong
Summary: They didn't know each other and when they did, they pretended not to have ties...Stilinskicest!
Relationships: Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	No ties (Translation)

**Author's Note:**

> **I do not approve of relationships involving minors in real life, fanfic written solely for the purpose of entertaining**
> 
> Sorry for my bad english :(

“I don't want you to get there until morning, Stiles," his mother moaned as she served mashed potatoes to her only son while frowning. And I mean it," she warned, this time sitting in her chair.

“I'll only go for about two hours, I swear," Stiles replied, fork and knife in hand, eager to take a bite of the mashed potato he loved so much.

Then Claudia Stilinski simply looked at her only son with reproach before releasing a sincere smile, her son had grown a lot that year, but she still feared that she was overprotecting him a lot, because after all it was only the two of them, and even though Claudia had already gotten over John, her ex-husband, things related to him were a mystery to Stiles and very selfishly, Claudia believed that this was the best thing for her son.

That's why she feared that at some point he would understand the truth, but she couldn't keep him there, she wanted him to go out and fall in love... to live his life as he wished and was happy with that.

So they went on with it, ate quietly and talked about their days until the time came when Scott, a friend of her son's, and another boy he couldn't remember the name of, knocked on the door and vanished with excitement to some party.

Claudia was sure, that nothing new would happen that night.

(…)

“Where are we going?" Stiles asked intrigued as he watched through the window of his friend's car, excited about the new joint they were taking him to.

“Isaac wants to go to a new bar they opened around town. Almost close to town," answers Scott without taking his eyes off the road.

“Well, let's go," he moaned happily.

The three teenagers smiled and headed for the old Beacon Hills road, talking, and joking to make their journey faster and more enjoyable until, after almost an hour, they reached their destination.

Certainly the place looked new, the chains overdressed to show the "I rule here" typical of them and the girls with miniskirts showing their great attributes to be able to pass abounded the entrance and generated a cliché that Stiles was not used to see, even in the movies they seem very exaggerated, now he knows that maybe they are not far from reality.

The building on the other hand didn't look at all attractive to Stiles, without windows and with a black facade, barely visible in the dark night, it seemed slightly suspicious, although of course, the lights of the place helped a lot to make it look more like what it was and not a place of bad luck.

He looked around intrigued and wasn't surprised to see the conceited Jackson and the beautiful Lydia at the entrance talking to the chain gang to let them in, and although it was obvious, Stiles was very surprised when he saw how easy it was for them to enter the place. Sometimes God was unfair.

They got out of the car like a score of pub-adolescents just like them, lively, with the rhythm in their blood and the uncontrollable urge to drink until they could not walk normally and why not? Stuck to kissing some stranger they would never hear from again the next morning.

And Stiles was looking forward to that, to finding a good match and getting so drunk that he forgot how he had even gotten home.

They approached the crowd at the entrance and after bribing the guy who was watching them from above a little, they went in, leaving the others behind.

Inside the atmosphere was more disturbing than outside, neon lights, blue, red and yellow lights were lit to the rhythm of electro music and euphoric dancing, the smell of alcohol, sweat, sex, and the soft smoke of some smoker in the area assigned to them already intoxicated Stiles in some way. The bodies of others touched his body, prompting him to dance, but before he joined them, he wanted a drink to warm himself up.

So, they soon found the bar and ordered a few beers just to start what would be a long night.

“What time did your mommy Stiles leave you?” asked Isaac after taking a sip from the jar and grimacing, you could tell how inexperienced they were at it.

“She just told me not to be late," he replied with a smile, feeling the rush of alcohol, causing Stiles to take Scott's hand and push them onto the floor.

They danced; they drank. Everything was fun until very casually two men much bigger than all the customers in the place came to the bar where they were and ordered some beers. Stiles looked at them curiously, and one of them returned the gesture, leaving a strange feeling in the teenager. _As if I already knew him_.

I watch as both men took their bottle beers and went into a corner, where it seemed like they were just talking, and Stiles wanted to know what they were talking about... he wanted to get closer, but he was too embarrassed to do so. He never liked them any better.

“God!” Isaac suddenly muttered in exaltation as he looked at the two men, Stiles looked away from them to see his friend. “Aren't they a little too old to come to a place like this?”

“Definitely," answered Scott as he took another sip of his beer, this time without a sneer, for they seemed already in the arms of alcohol. “Maybe they're looking for their kids” He points out as if that's the most obvious thing.

“Of course not," he said, because that was an accusation Stiles didn't like to make about older people going to a bar full of teenagers just looking for their kids. Just because it's something big doesn't mean they can't come and enjoy it.

Isaac and Scott took a meaningful look at each other before laughing again.

“I'm serious," Stiles replied, frowning slightly, feeling the colours of his anger colour his cheeks pale. “Maybe they just want to have a good time, like everyone else, it's not something to laugh at.”

“If so, we'll challenge you then”, Scott muttered with a scowl and Isaac laughed again.

“Yes, go to that gentleman and see what he has to offer," said the Lahey.

“Are you mad? He could be our father!”

“Come on Stiles, don't be exaggerated, after all, you're the one who said you want to have fun too, right?”

Stiles flipped over to where the man in his forties was talking to another guy whose face sounded familiar. Stiles swallowed heavily as the blue eyes of the larger blond man fixed on his and an electric current ran down his spine. The man had something that Stiles did not know, but that inevitably made him want to get closer to it. He turned his eyes once more, and this time he looked at his friends with a scowl.

“All right, you damnable bastards, I will go talk to the men and show them that age does not matter for coming to this sort of place”

“Good luck," said Scott as he and Isaac burst out laughing.

Stiles tightened the handle of his jar, and with decision and determination turned to address those old men who did not seem to be as interested in the atmosphere of the place as the others.

He felt his nerves grow as the older man once again laid eyes on him, but that did not stop Stiles, he was too curious to stop, and before he arrived and greeted as planned, the type of backcombing greeted him with a mischievous, uncomfortable smile.

“Hey, kiddo. Are you lost?”

Stiles couldn't help but roll his eyes, the guy in his thirties could be big, but not as cocky as all the teenagers who went there to pick up girls.

“Peter," the other one warned with a smile as he drank from the mouth of the bottle, Stiles was suddenly lost in that smile. “Don't crowd the boy.”

Well, the blond guy spoke more like a man his age. Only big men...

“I... My name is Stiles," he moaned, feeling a little more relieved. My friends and I wanted to see if they wanted to share a beer.

“Hey, Stiles. My name is John, and my reckless friend's name is Peter.”

Stiles felt the need to shake John's firm hand, and again an electric current passed through his entire body. He forgot to say hello to Peter, but he wasn't interested. They talked for a couple of seconds until, once convinced, they went to meet their friends at the bar.

Although Scott and Isaac were confused by the action, it was too easy for Peter and John to integrate into the conversation the two teenagers were having. And Stiles was somehow okay with Peter talking to his friends, but it was John's presence that made him nervous.

“I'll buy you another beer “whisper John very close to the teenager.

Stiles accepted, and without realizing it, they went a little farther away from the others. Sitting so close, Stiles understood the major's intentions about him, and even knowing that, it didn't bother him.

John and Stiles couldn't stop talking about banal things, with a beer in hand and the stares between them. Their friends became part of a scene that did not include them, they became people they did not want to pay attention to. More important were the soft, gentle, disguised caresses that became a little more brazen as time went by that took the attention away from others. They came closer, preventing space from pulling them apart, John came a little closer, breathing the same air as the teenager and almost making his ear pink with a whisper.

“Shall we go from here?

Stiles' heart pounded, his face filled with colour and he nodded, even though he knew what such an invitation meant, but once again, that was not important. He wanted to be with John, in more ways than one.

He turned his eyes to where his friends were, and saying they didn't see him left the beer mug at the bar, just as John did, left money beside them and grabbed his index fingers and slipped out of the crowd.

The adrenaline ran through Stiles' body from one end to the other, with a thousand doubts in his head but only letting himself be carried away by the current that this man, who was twenty-some years older than he was, was provoking in him. Again, did it matter? They made it to the exit and got into a navy-blue car. Stiles, still nervous as he was, sent a message to Scott that he had gone with John, although he was not showing him any risk by being with him, but he had to be careful just in case.

(…)

They arrived at the nearest hotel, according to John who had a reservation there earlier because he had to arrange some things with his ex-wife. It didn't surprise Stiles at all to learn that the man had had other lovers before him. It was too obvious, so his conversation didn't bother him at all. He was more excited about what might happen than about the past of a man he barely knew.

And when they arrived they didn't have to check in or anything, they just walked into the room, staring at each other for a couple of seconds as if they were barely aware of what they had gone there to do, what they both wanted to do.

“You're so young," John muttered suddenly as he stroked Stiles' cheek. “I don't think it's right," he continued, sounding remorseful.

But Stiles, impatient as he was, approached the man and planted a demanding, euphoric kiss on the man's lips. Ignoring his doubts, ignoring everything, and paying attention only to his fleeting desire. Eager for the adventure he would have, desperate to continue it, he wrapped his arms around the neck of the tall man and almost on tiptoe continued with his kiss. Passionate and clumsy.

John's body was almost twice as big as his, and like Stiles once the kiss continued, the doubts the older man seemed to have felt were gone. John's body pushed him violently into the wall, and more daringly than Stiles had imagined, he began to stick his tongue into his mouth when the kiss seemed not to be enough. And the blond man's big, rough hands began frantically caressing under his clothes. Leaving the place where he touched warm. They came down to his butt, squeezing it tightly, and John pressed his notoriously hard limb against Stiles' body.

It was so exciting that Stiles had to leave his job with the lips of the now not so unknown John and to release a passionate and needy moan.

“Let's go to bed," he pleaded as John's unsatisfied lips furiously ran down the teenager's neck. And Stiles couldn't stop moaning incomprehensible things.

It took John a while to react, but then he performed the action of bringing his nightly lover to the comfort of the bed. He pushed him violently, and Stiles' thin body bounced slightly. It didn't take long for the brown man to take off his shirt from a group that John didn't know and take off his sneakers and then get rid of the pants, John did the same with the clothes, only he didn't take off the navy blue denim pants that he was wearing that night, he just lowered them a little, and enthusiastically, he showed with pride what characterized him as a man, dominant, almost alpha. Stiles licked his lower lip and stood up, with the faithful purpose of giving such a specimen a good lick.

I take the man's cock with both hands, praising the thickness and size with a lascivious look. And without John asking, Stiles kisses the glans with some affection and then positions it in his mouth. He licked it like a sweet, soft, deep down, winning with his trained movements the refreshing moans of his passing lover.

“Damn, boy," said John after feeling how tight the teenager's throat felt.

Stiles slowly moved, slowly and back and forth, it was only a few minutes before John took him away from his new mania with that erotic brusqueness, positioning him in four. So easy it looked like a rag doll. He opened his bottom, and with a quick and precise movement began to kiss the entrance, invading the narrow channel with his tongue, preparing the area thoroughly for what was to come.

Stiles had never felt such ecstasy, his body trembled with such emotion, and the tears were not pain at all, but a sensation that clouded his consciousness, and disturbed him in an exciting way. Stiles desired all that this man could give him. John gave one last kiss in the area before suddenly slapping Stiles' buttock. Such a fact did not disturb him, on the contrary it increased his urge to want John's member inside him.

“I don't have a condom” Murmured John as he positioned his limb in the teenager's doorway.

“Do you think I'm interested?” Stiles replied as he bit his lip and backed up. Just put it on, John.

I look sideways at the blond man smiling, and after what seemed like a long time, John pushed his limb in, slowly entering the narrow cavity, wet with John's saliva, and hot as the man had never imagined. Stiles squirmed into place, in slight pain but still aware that it was not the whole of his limb, he stepped back once more to embrace it completely and let out a groan of genuine pleasure when he felt full.

“Oh, my goodness...” he groaned and bit his lower lip a second time. “Your cock is too big, John”.

“Tell me if it hurts”, replied John with a smile on his lips, and then he lunged hard at the entrance of the chestnut tree.

Such an act was surprising but incredibly accurate, touching the point that drove him crazy, Stiles had to bite the pillow so that no hotel guest would complain about his outrageous screams. John may have been close to fifty, but he was a magnificent man in bed. His hands clutched his thin hips possessively, and his lunges, each one accurate, made Stiles look like stars.

He had never slept with anyone better than Derek Hale, although Jordan Parrish, an office mate of his mother's, was not far behind, none of those Adonis surpassed this mature man who confessed to him in movement how skilled and skilful he was at giving love.

“There!” he pleaded after regaining his voice a little and feeling the stars in his eyes when he hit the target. “Make it rude... More!”

“Do you want it ruder, Baby? Do you want it faster?

John's loving call of baby reminded him of those Daddy Kink games he secretly loved so much, with a slight tremor in his lip, Stiles looked sideways at the man who plunged his blue eyes into his waiting for an answer amidst the groans of a teenager.

“Yes, Daddy! I want it, Daddy. Tear me apart.”

He saw the lust reflected in the pupils of the blond man, who responded not with words but with actions. Strong, violent stabs that didn't lose their special point made Stiles delirious. That man was really tearing him apart.

John raised one of his hands to the teenager's chest, and let himself fall on his back to moan in Stiles' ear, in an erotic, almost subnormal way the phrase that unleashed an explosion of excitement in the boy's mouth of the stomach.

“Am I your daddy, honey?”

A deep and incredibly majestic lunge attacked Stiles, making the answer that he had formulated escape to the air of his lungs.

“Yes! You're my daddy!”

John smiled, and the hand that held him by the chest went up to the boy's neck, forcing him to meet the man's mouth again.

“I'm your daddy, honey”

And it invaded that mouth again, which felt like hell itself.

There was a kind of guilt in John, which confused him and made him uncomfortable, as well as increased a deep lust within him, Stiles could be his son. The child that Claudia, his ex-wife, had given birth to sixteen years ago, almost seventeen. But John had already let himself be carried away by that boy's incredible body; it was too late to regret something he clearly didn't do. Because Stiles had awakened something inside him that no one had ever awakened, he had been in the arms of a thousand kinds of women, and a few men, but none had set his body on fire with the heat of others. He had never felt such embarrassment, never felt so hard.

John charged once more, strong, deep, and fast, and Stiles groaned in his mouth.

“Do you like daddy's dick?”

Stiles couldn't answer with words, the feeling was so abysmal that the words seemed to get stuck in the throat.

“Yes!” he screams in desperation. “Yes, I do so bad!”

There were more onslaughts, until Stiles ran without even touching himself followed by a powerful orgasm on the part of the elder, filling the boy's hole with his own seed. The sexual round was over for the moment, and in that short rest, John and Stiles curled up in the comfortable, already dishevelled bed.

John's huge arms wrapped around him in a slim body and pulled him close to his chest. He deposited a few kisses on the boy's temple and then closed his eyes, but he did not sleep. It was not normal to show affection to a passing lover, yet that night he had been born to do so, Stiles smiled, saw it out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you want a second round?” He ask the Major shamelessly.

John did not hold back his laughter, sighing wearily, and kissed the boy's lips again to answer after a second.

“I need a break”.

Stiles ignored this, settled down to catch up with the man and kissed him on demand. A wet kiss, where Stiles' pink tongue tasted John's. With a smile on his face, and his hands free to wander about the sweaty body.

“I can take care of everything John...” He murmurs as his lips run down the neck of his nightly lover. “Everything, leave it to me”

The boy's plea sounded like that of a child who wishes to be bought a sweet promising to behave. John laughed again and answered.

“Surprise me then, boy”

Stiles smiled once more, and without ceasing to walk around the neck of his new lover, he reached the area of the pubic hair, where he tangled his fingers and after a subtle torture for John, Stiles reached the place where his now semi-erect limb rested. He squeezed it gently with the palm of his hand and began to pump it up and down. A slow, exquisitely pleasing movement for his very first move.

John caressed Stiles' soft brown hair, an action that without a word made Stiles back up to give John the space to stand on the boy's chest, where two pastel pink buttons were becoming appetizing and eager to be devoured by his lips, not taking long to lick them, tasting them for the first time, knowing that no other man had them so delicious, Stiles let out a soft moan when John's teeth bit him fondly. And by this time his limb was one hundred percent awake again, and after a few more pampering, Stiles stood up and positioned each leg at John's side, giving him an idea of what he was up to. The blond man put his hands on the back of his head and waited anxiously for the young teenager's movements.

“Mmm, Daddy," groaned Stiles, still moving his hand around the thick limb. “Can I put it in?”

John loved that game, being called Daddy was too much for him, but it was so accurate that it filled his imagination with fantasy.

“I don't know, baby. Can you handle it?” Stiles smiled and nodded impatiently. Then let's see how you handle it.

Stiles positioned the penis again in his entrance, and despite being used before, there was some resistance from the teenager.

“Easy boy," groaned John, though he did not stop him. “Take it easy”.

But Stiles didn't calm down, he rushed things because John's penis felt great inside and it was something he wanted to have again. He introduced the penis slowly, not stopping him from cursing and talking nonsense. The thickness of that penis was too much, but so good that he didn't care if it hurt a little.

“Oh, Daddy!” he moaned as John's member came back from his entrance, all of him.

John didn't move, the emotions he felt, that prick in his heart made him close his eyes and let out a moan of uncontrollable pleasure.

“Do you want me to move, daddy?”

John could not imagine how badly he should hear that word, with sexual content, along with a familiar connotation like Daddy was, he tried to ignore the fact that in reality, John could be a father to that daring boy, and still feel it risky, throbbing inside him. I imagine Stiles, very badly, doing what he was doing and behind the door, his mother, Claudia, preparing dinner for the family.

How hypocritically immoral John was! Imagine a little boy I didn't even know as Stiles, riding him and moaning like a bitch in heat.

Stiles cut through that unhealthy, dirty thought that John had had when he moved with frenzy, impaling himself on his member, moaning his name accompanied by an "Oh Daddy" that was really making him addicted. He couldn't describe the new orgasm, it came after a few minutes that felt like hours and ended up filling the little pink hole of the boy again, who also came to orgasm with a little help from John's hand.

Stiles' thin body collapsed in John's chest, agitated, with the heat burning his guts and the sleepiness that after a huge orgasm filled his nerves. They remained like this for a few seconds, with John's limb still inside Stiles and with his hand, the one that was stained with Stiles' semen caressing the beginning and the end of his back, not without first calming his desire to give a whip to the rounded buttocks of the boy who barely complained.

It had been a hectic night, which ended with both exhausted and finally falling asleep in the middle of the huge bed of that hotel.

The insistent sound of the cell phone was what woke him up that morning, with a horrible hangover, his body cold and completely naked, at some point the night before, Stiles begged him to take off his jeans and underwear to go to sleep. John ignored this and sat up without successfully moving his passing lover who was still sleeping next to him. He picked up the phone and without seeing the name of the number he answered.

“Finally, you answer me!” said a female voice from the other side of the line which made John roll his eyes.

He sat lazily on the edge of the bed and walked to the bathroom where after a sigh he answered.

“Hello, Claudia.”

“You know I don't like to be wasting my money on phone calls. But anyway, I don't think you'll ever be a good and considerate man with me.

“How's the boy?” He's fine. he asked, ignoring his ex-wife's complaints.

“Okay," the woman replied coldly.” A friend of his told me that he slept with him last night, I'll call him later... But I'm not here to talk about him, John. What time can we meet?”

John sighed, hearing movement in the room and looking at the morning erection he had ignored. Eager to put his limb back in the doorway of that teenager he had taken to bed the night before.

“At twelve o'clock, perhaps. I'll call you back”.

Claudia didn't answer John and putting him on hold she hung up the phone.

John took a breath. But without caring in the least he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and after realizing that he didn't look so miserable he left the place.

(…)

Stiles got up almost immediately from hearing John talk on the phone, which he assumed was a call from his ex-wife that he wasn't interested in, he sat up in bed remembering what he had promised his mom and ran to his phone, imagining the countless calls from his mom, however to his surprise he only found three and then two messages from his best friend Scott.

_"You're crazy, Stiles. How can you leave with a man you don't even know?"_

And the second.

_“Your mom called me earlier, I had to tell her to put you to bed and you were already in your fifth dream, you owe me one”_

He thanked Scott deeply and hurriedly sent a thank you to his friend and a text to his mom telling her an approximate time he'd be home. To which his dear mother mentioned that he would probably not find her by twelve. Without asking her why, Stiles blocked the device just as his new lover was coming out of the bathroom with his cell phone in his hand. Tough.

He gave half a smile and said.

“I hope that's because of me and not your ex-wife”.

John smiled and shook his head as he approached Stiles. He went up to the bed and came closer until he kissed him vehemently.

“Do you want to do that?” John muttered away from the teenager's lips.

“Do you have the strength for another round? I does” the joke in his voice sounded too obvious, and although John understood the joke, he frowned in anger.

“Oh Stiles," he exclaimed. “If I were your father, I would have punished you for that already”.

Stiles, still with his jester's smile, raised an eyebrow in curiosity and then turned around to be closer to the man and with a whisper that was barely heard said.

“Then... Teach me how to be a good boy, Daddy”

John smiled lewdly, took Stiles' forearm, and pulled it out to drop it onto his bare legs.

“Let me show you well”, he muttered, slapping his left cheek as Stiles groaned in delight.

John's hands, those of a working man, rough and hard, struck both cheeks with equal force, an action that left a slight itch that made Stiles sigh when he felt another scourge. Stiles' skin, which was white and pale, turned sharply red, as did his ears and his face in general. He had seen the boy's blushing the night before, with both rounds, yet the perspective was different, and the context seemed so. Stiles bit into the sheet with his eyes closed, moving from time to time with each spanking. John stopped, massaged the damaged muscle, and after a few seconds, inserted his middle finger into the still-full seeded entrance.

John's fingers were thick, and he provoked a groan from Stiles. They opened the place in a provocative way and John did not hesitate to introduce a second finger. He moved them in circles, and progressively in scissors, seeing the remains of his semen staining his fingers, and feeling the erection of the teenager rousing with his own erection. They hadn't done it, playing with the older boy's fingers, they had omitted it the night before, but that morning John wanted to push the boy's limits with his fingers until the teenager wanted and begged to be filled with his needy penis.

He scoured the place, hoping to quickly find the spot that had made Stiles lose control, and almost magically, just as he thought about it, Stiles groaned significantly louder. He found it without looking. John smiled and frantically pressed the spot, causing Stiles' tears and moaning to increase. John's thin body trembled, and his fingers moved faster when Stiles asked him to stop.

“I'll do it when I want to," he replied, mistreating the entrance again and again, inserting a third finger, and then, when Stiles was feeling closer to his orgasm, he asked for what John had secretly been looking for.

“Please, please, I need more...” and he groaned powerfully as John's fingers stopped only to press on his wonderful spot, moving in circles but not leaving him free to breathe.

“And what do you want, honey?” he asked, feeling a slight tremor in his own penis.

“I want you inside me...” he answered, looking at it out of the corner of his eye, his gaze clouded with ecstasy, urged by that which had united them in such a clandestine and immoral adventure.

John held his breath, and his heartbeat fast. Stiles was becoming a new obsession, and this surprised him greatly. After almost forty-eight years, John had never slept with his passing loves again, and yet there he was, with a boy who could be his son, consummating passion in the arms of a boy he barely knew. It wasn't love, not even platonic, there was something else attached to him, which tied John in a provocative, unique, and different way, that which he could never achieve with Claudia or his other serious relationships. Or in general, any relationship at all.

He wanted it in a strange way, he knew it from the moment he saw it when he arrived at the bar, he stood out in a brilliant way among the masses. And he knew from the beginning that he wanted it the way he had it at that moment.

I pull the fingers out from inside the boy, and with the hand close to Stiles' face I stroke the cheek, wet with tears. Something wasn't right, I doubt very much that it was the age, I didn't know completely the origin of that bad feeling, but it filled John with an unhealthy adrenaline, like the addiction of a coke lover. I kissed the boy, less demanding, more affectionate. He wanted to go back to consuming with Stiles, but with those desires controlled because that morning he wished he could enjoy the boy more.

Then he pushed him slightly so that he would be on his back in bed, without letting go of his lips and moving slowly to make that exquisite friction between both erections. The thin arms of the teenager surrounded his wide back, animated by the warm kiss that gradually became more intense. Their tongues met again, making a slow struggle in their mouths to maintain control.

It was until Stiles moved his lips away from John's that he focused on other parts, just as delicious as the chestnut tree offered him on a golden platter. His neck, thin as a whole body and slightly long, in each mole that adorned the body of his beloved, like the stars of a clean and pure sky. On Adam's apple, hardly noticeable, on his shoulders, in his ears. John's lips spread little kisses on the soft, smooth skin of the teenager, and the warm hands of the chestnut tree explored skin they had not explored last night. He caressed the not-so-hard abs and not-so-firm chest. The arms, though still strong, felt so loose that John was embarrassed for a moment to show his body in front of the boy, but that didn't stop him.

Stiles' legs wrapped around his hips, and with a simple movement John guessed what he wanted.

“Don't torture me anymore," complained Stiles, looking John straight in the eyes, his pupils dilated and his cheeks red as apples, and John, with a half-smile, kissed the boy's thin, puckered lips again.

With his other hand, John directed the glans of his erection to the entrance of the desperate young man. Slowly he stepped in, feeling the soft walls surrounding him and squeezing him in an almost impossible way. John had to step away from the kiss to let out a sigh. There was something magical about him, something he could not describe in words or anything else.

Once inside, Stiles took a long breath, eyes closed and mouth wide open, John then kissed his jaw, and asked quietly if everything was all right, to which the teenager responded.

“Your dick is fucking big...”

John burst out laughing, trying to move slowly, enjoying the encounter like he had never done before.

“Does it bother you that it's big?” he asked, surprisingly making a completely loud and deep charge that Stiles could not contain his scream.

“Are you crazy?” he replied after another moan.

John felt his body tremble at the comment, and with energy, one he did not know, he began to move abruptly, making Stiles squirm with pleasure under his body. He ran his tongue over the boy's neck, over his shoulders, which took on a pinkish hue, and over his chest, and then his lips met Stiles'. Leaving without escape the moans that died in his mouth, making the sexual act even more erotic than it already was.

Stiles' fingernails suddenly became embedded in the Major's back, and then they relaxed as John made his movements even more relaxed. Actions he took in wishing that it would all end slowly.

“God John”, he groaned as he touched his spot, eyes rolled back and a smile on his lips, "Louder! Please, please.

“Oh, darling, keep begging me.”

He was about to deposit a new kiss when Stiles' hands stopped him in his tracks. He walked away from the huge body above him and pulled out the huge limb that was tearing him apart as if it were nothing. And in the face of John's confusion, Stiles made the older man lie down and then took up a position in the space between his legs and reclined, leaving the tip of John's penis caressing the tip of Stiles' nose.

“I've thought about it, I want you to come in my mouth.”

John had to hold his breath when he saw Stiles put his penis in his mouth, he had experienced his lips there the night before, and they had been great, yet that morning everything seemed even better. Stiles would run his tongue down the length, bite down a little, and wrap his mouth around it again, a slow sway, which would occasionally get faster.

But there were times, especially when Stiles managed to put everything in his mouth, when John felt he couldn't hold back much. He stroked Stiles' hair; he could really get used to it. Both Stiles' mouth and his ass were magical, he can't deny that he's already.

But there were times, especially when Stiles managed to put everything into his mouth when John felt he couldn't hold it in very long. He stroked Stiles' hair; he could really get used to it. Both Stiles' mouth and his ass were magical, he can't deny that he has already started to imagine a life by the side of the little boy, fucking, living off the powerful sex. A ridiculous, almost crazy dream, but incredibly lewd.

Then John, clouded in ecstasy, stopped the boy's movement making him stay stuck to his pubic hair, preventing him from breathing normally, and after a few seconds when Stiles pinched his hip, John let him go, but it was him who set the pace and shortly after, John sighed announcing his next orgasm. After seeing that, Stiles stopped, waiting for the spurt, anxious, and with one hand masturbating quickly, hoping that his runs would be coordinated like some erotic story he had read.

John held another sigh, feeling the most intense orgasm of his life, Stiles waited patiently, with the salty taste invading his palate. When all that was over, the young man withdrew his penis from his mouth, leaving a thread of slime and semen attached to his lips. However, the rest was swallowed by the teenager.

An action that John had never seen before, and that he still found hard to believe. Stiles had swallowed his semen as if it were something else. As he stood up more, Stiles showed his thin, pale abdomen stained with his own semen.

Even suffering the ravages of sex, John lunged at Stiles, and kissing him vehemently he recognized the taste on the teenager's pink lips. Not feeling disgusted by the taste, not even knowing where it came from. He just wanted to end with a kiss the great experience he had had with that teenager he knew nothing about.

They lay there embracing, regaining strength for a while more, until the minutes passed, and they began to warm up again.

They ended up having sex in the bathtub, where more than just bathing, they loved each other under the jet of water. And after that, they had sex in bed, their last sexual encounter, until they finally said goodbye.

(…)

By twelve o'clock John was all dressed up and ready to go, acting like he hadn't been involved with a teenager last night and early this morning. He even ignored the judgmental look the receptionist gave him when he came down from the hotel.

He went straight to the mall, feeling a little tired, but refreshed at the same time. And that is until he saw his ex-wife's brown hair sitting their drinking coffee. The greeting was a polite smile full of hypocrisy from both sides, although he wasn't very interested in her and sat across from her asking a waiter for just a glass of water.

“You are late”.

“I'm sorry, I had a setback in the morning.”

His wife frowned, looking cruel and strict like the yesterday’s where they were a couple. Claudia was like that, and she always was. Nervous, anxious, and tremendously organized and punctual, John understood almost a year later that this girl would be a headache, just like she was now. John's worst mistake was not falling in love but neglecting it and not finishing it before it happened. He doesn't regret having been her husband, nor of having loved her, although Claudia was hateful and without joke, she was also a beautiful woman, funny, outgoing, and intelligent.

Unfortunately, there were differences.

The waiter arrived depositing the glass of water with some ice in front of John and left without mentioning any word although John sent him off with a thank you.

“Important matters? You were probably doing a dirty thing”, says Claudia, full of hate.

“Do you want me to say it? Yes, I was screwing a guy I knew yesterday.

The woman retches, she knows that John was always bisexual, but she always repressed that dislike.

“So disgusting, what did you come here for, John?” she asked, ignoring what John had told her.

“I told you. I want to meet the boy; I want to try again to be a good father. Can't I do that?”

“You're late, aren't you? He's seventeen now, he's not interested in meeting you, plus going to fuck strangers... that doesn't make you a good father, just a bad influence”.

John was speechless, he'd forgotten his son's age, hadn't he seen him for so long? Claudia had stopped sending him pictures of the baby on his birthday. Almost by the time the judge ruled that John could no longer see the child, because he was declared an alcoholic. Claudia left there, and took refuge in her father's village, barely giving him her phone number.

“Please, Claudia”, he begged, feeling terrible that he had not been a good father, “let go, even if it means seeing him one day. You have told him about me, haven't you?”

And Claudia bit her lip giving John the answer, devastated.

“I'm sorry, John”.

“Why? Why would you do something like that?”

“Because I thought it would be best for him! What was I going to tell him about you? That his father left me because he didn't love me, because he was afraid to be a father? That his father was an alcoholic, that he barely had a job and that he sleeps with women and men at night? I'm sorry, that's not how my son knows his father”.

“Claudia, for God's sake, that was during college, I graduated and have had a steady job ever since. Remember that”.

“I heard rumours, John. I even know how much fun you have in bars. Aren't you ashamed? You're already a gentleman in your fifties.”

John got red, angry at all the claims Claudia was spitting at him. He had gone to look for his son and meeting the boy would not be impossible. He dodged his instincts to fight back and simply answered.

“Talk to him, and if he wants to see me tell him the address of the hotel where I'm staying”.

Claudia relaxed her frown and nodded, leaving the fight for later, and letting John escape from that encounter. Then John walked, distracted by the square of Beacon Hills, until a thin, pale, and shorter boy surprised him from the other side of the sidewalk.

“Seems like we're destined to meet”.

John was relieved to recognize the voice of the teenager in front of him, the boy who had spread his legs in a thong begging looked at him with interest, even reflecting the flame in his eyes.

“An interesting coincidence," John muttered, feeling better, for it seemed to indicate that his encounters with this young man were fiery, intense, and highly sexual.

John came closer, touching the boy's hips, bringing him closer once more, eager for that, even though his energy for sex was gone and his throat was scratching from his intense moaning, John wanted to be comforted by the boy's arms. He wanted to kiss him and make him his own in other ways. Yet the teenager, even with his lecherous look and half a smile, pushed John away.

“You are insatiable”, he muttered, erotically. “Give me a break, we're in a public square”.

“Let's go somewhere else” suggested John, feeling impatient.

“Let's meet tonight," he replied. “You know, John, one thing we forgot to do was share our data, give me your phone”.

John took out the device and memorized his phone number and Stiles did the same. They put the devices away and looked at each other as accomplices until John shamelessly mentioned him again.

“Let's go somewhere else, even if it means drinking a beer”.

“I'll see you tonight, I can't right now, I have to meet my mom at the café”.

John thought about it. The same cafe where he had met Claudia?

And then he remembered that while his fleeting love never asked Stiles his age, it was extremely important for a man his age to know that he was safe from the law. With his nerves in the pit of his stomach, he asked after a pause.

“How old are you, Stiles?”

And the teenager laughed innocently and answered honestly.

“I just turned seventeen last week, but don't worry, I won't tell anyone about my tangles with you”.

And John paled, the same age as his son, turned the same time. Coincidence? John's heart was beating fast, and I pray, he really did, that that boy was not his boy.

"There are too many teenagers, John, Stiles can't be your son."

However, the tapping behind him surprised him, and Claudia's raspy, bitter voice echoed in his eardrums like a mighty thunderclap, frightening him, fearing that his prayers would not be heard.

“Stiles, son...”

And he doesn't know, but Stiles' face looked at the woman before his, surprised, but ignorant of what John had just discovered.

Claudia's eyes passed from John's to Stiles', not realizing much about the previous conversation between those two and guessing that tragic fate had acted before she would make any decisions with Stiles.

She sighed, reaching out to the two of them.

“Mom...” Stiles was going to lie about the man, yet the truth that the chestnut confessed silenced any word from the teenager.

“I didn't imagine this would happen so quickly. Stiles say hello to your father”.

Stiles looked at John in surprise, and in confusion away from the man.

“My father? This man?” He asks scared, nervous, and confused.

“Yes. John wanted to meet you”, Claudia answered by looking at her ex-husband, who like Stiles was confused.

“It's impossible”, Stiles muttered, feeling a chill down his spine.

“I thought you said our son's name was Mieczyslaw...” said John suddenly, still feeling a little lost in the face of all that.

“And it is, Stiles is just a nickname," answered Claudia, passing an arm over Stiles' shoulders, who was still in shock.

“I didn't know he was Mieczyslaw...”

“What? Did they know each other?”

Claudia looked at her son curious about the answer, but Stiles couldn't answer.

“We talked yesterday... At a party”, John answered after a few seconds.

“Yes. He went to Lydia's party, we only talked for a moment but... I have something to think, Mom, let's go”.

Claudia nodded and after saying goodbye they left the confused man.

(…)

Stiles did not let him, and his mother eat anything in the square as they had agreed, his heart, and a strange nervousness from his stomach to his chest made him feel full and without appetite. So, they bought some things that Stiles had previously asked his mother for and when they got home, they talked briefly about what had happened.

“John is your father," Claudia said.

“Why didn't you tell me about him? Or why didn't you show me any pictures?”

“I thought it would be best for you, Stiles. John broke my heart. But now that this is imminent, maybe it's best if you two talk”

Stiles kept talking about it with his mother until he became obnoxious and ran off to his room, jaded, if less confused.

He hid in his bed, hid under the sheets, and thought, remembered everything that had happened. His now familiar father's hands slowly traced out, his lips, his tongue and that which Stiles had licked with vehemence and charm. His ridiculous game of "daddy" that who would say would end up being a fact.

He also remembered his asshole, full of that sperm that, although long ago, had been a consequence of his existence. Clearly, he did not know how to feel about the situation, there was no disgust, much less regret, he still had the desire for the man in his being, unhealthy, forbidden, morbid. And he felt bad because Stiles knew well how bad that desire was.

But since they had met the night before, even in the early hours of that day, was it wrong? He had spent the most incredible night of his life, and he wouldn't deny it even knowing it was his father. It would be a lie to say how much he regretted that fact. But I don't. She wouldn't deny it.

He take his cell phone, and he look at the screen, no calls, no texts. Talking to John... With his father, that would be something they'd have to do sooner or later, wouldn't it?

Stiles waited until later, and after talking to his mother again, she agreed to give him John's hotel address (although she already knew it) and permission to go talk to him alone. He knew how shocked he was, and how difficult it would be to get back into the room where it all happened, although he didn't know if that anxiety was what his morals dictated or if it was on the contrary, the urge to see him again.

(…)

He arrived at the hotel where his father would stay (according to his mother) for about a week. He was at the reception for a few seconds, checked in on a visitor's sheet even with the lady's judgment cocking his bad feeling and then literally ran to the room, where he played in desperation.

He should have knocked better, but Stiles had stopped being the meticulous and intelligent guy that day because it was almost until the fifth knock that John opened the door, surprised by Stiles' arrival at the hotel.

The teenager worked his way through until he saw the man's bags packed.

“You're planning to leave?!” he asked with a scowl, turning to face his father's gaze.

“Stiles...” groaned John wearily.

“Were you going to leave without telling us?” interrupted Stiles, feeling slightly disappointed, softening the gesture. "Were you really going to do it? After all that happened".

"I thought it would be best," John answered, closing the door, and entering the room more. "I thought... Well, I thought it would be uncomfortable to see each other again".

“And it is fucking is. It's super awkward and bad and a lot of other things, but that's not how it works, John”.

The older one looked at his son standing there in silence not knowing what to say to that.

“I'm not some kid you can just dump on and leave without telling him... -continued the teenager with a scowl and watery eyes. I'm a big boy now.

“Stiles, no, I didn't want this, but this won't work anymore”.

“It doesn't matter if it works or not, I have a right to know," said the teenager. “I want to know things from your point of view, not my mother's”.

“What do you want to know?” ask John.

“Why did you leave?” Stiles muttered, with tears in his eyes. Between the hiccups and the sobbing.

“Because I was afraid," confessed John after a few seconds, feeling his heart breaking into a million pieces, irreparably and pathetically. “Why, I wasn't ready, why... I don't know, Stiles. Sometimes old people do stupid things”.

He couldn't deny the tears being born from his soul, he couldn't deny the pain and the neglect that it caused. The truth is, John didn't feel ready to raise a child back then, not when his marriage sucked and routine, not when he was unemployed and halfway through college. He didn't want that responsibility, and he denied Claudia the possibility of making the three of them a family.

Because he was afraid.

“But I need you so much, Dad”, he muttered. “Mom did, I did too... And look at us now... I can't even see you as my father, John, anymore...”

Stiles ran to his arms and John hugged him with love, a love different from the sexual or the after sex that they showed many times already and certainly, Stiles was right. That possibility of seeing himself as father and son had been broken when John had decided to take him to bed. When they consummated in bed at that motel the impure acts, they both knew would lead them to hell.

And it weighed on him. Why he had gone to Beacon Hills to meet that child, who neither knew nor remembered his name or face, had not gone to seek comfort in that son's arms, in a forbidding and immoral way. John had mistakenly sought a slip of fate that had ruined that magic a little.

But just like a phoenix, that spark could not be completely eliminated, with the many times he felt loved by that child, by those same acts, wild and innate, John could not let go of that, not in that unfortunate way.

“We can't do this, John...” whispered Stiles, clinging tightly to the man's denim shirt. “You are my father...”

“I know," he replied with a chaste kiss at the root of his hair. Knowing that the act would be difficult for him to cut.

Then Stiles walked away from that embrace, looked into his eyes, still red and teary-eyed from the action, but there was that in his eyes, a flame that John had already seen and lived through, and his heart, knowing that, did nothing but beat strongly.

They stood there, with their eyes fixed on each other, debating whether what they felt was the product of the forbidden pleasure of all those acts done just one day ago or if it was simply a social malaise.

But then, the debate was won, and the two approached each other slowly, joining in a kiss, tender, loving, far removed from what they had done the night before. This time, Stiles could tell the difference between his father's aggressive, erotic caresses and the romantic, tender caresses he was given that night. There was no such urgency despite the unfulfilled desire that still controlled his actions. John's tongue licked the corner of Stiles' mouth, and then he turned away to look again at his son.

“Is this really okay, Stiles?” he asks.

And Stiles' heart caught fire, because he knew it was illegal, because he was his father, because there were many other things, because there would be people who would find him repulsive and sick, but even knowing all this, Stiles answered

“Yes”, he did.

Stiles didn't know what that relationship would bring, even John didn't seem to be sure of it, yet that night they loved each other like the night before, and they loved each other as if they had no ties... Because that night, Stiles was not John's son, and he was not his father. They were once again strangers who needed to drown in desperate kisses and needy caresses, strangers without ties...

By tomorrow, if required, that instant love would die in their arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the comments ♡


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